Anticipation is such an important part of romance: waiting by the phone, hoping he’ll laugh at your joke, wondering if she feels the same way. When the phone rings, when she laughs so hard she snorts, when he says those words, “I love you too,” you feel such relief, it’s like the sun broke free and you’ve never been so happy. I’ve tried to capture some of that spice that seasons those sunburst moments in the entries of Tod’s diary, as he writes about his first encounters with Carla, the heroine of Love on the 500 (on sale now for 99¢!).

Tod just turned eighteen, and he’s off to celebrate his first year as a gutter punk with his friends. His ride on the bus turns out to be a lot more interesting than he expected.

July 24th, 2003

I was riding the bus today, not paying much attention to anything. As usual, people gave me space, because, well, it had been months since I’d taken a shower. They all stuck in their earbuds and pretended the bus didn’t exist. I wore my cheap aviator sunglasses I stole from a gas station, and no one could tell what I was looking at.

A cute girl sat with her hands stuck between her knees, on her lap a purse covered in cartoon characters. At the next stop I shuffled back so I stood in front of her. A secret little smile curled her lips, and her eyes kept moving over my body. Every now and then her gaze would slip past me to the window, and she would watch me from the corner of her eye.

Her breasts mesmerized me as she stretched back to pull the cord. She stood, and for a moment, her hand touched my ass.

My dick leapt to attention. Happy birthday to me.

Stunned, I didn’t catch what stop she got off at. I had to wait for my embarrassing boner to recede. I hunched over and stared at the floor, shivering with excitement while I waited.

When I noticed people were starting to whisper I got off. Turning my head, I remembered the bus’ number, the 500. I had to backtrack a couple of blocks to get to the bar we were meeting at. Everyone had saved up some money to celebrate my first birthday on the streets. Apparently it was a big deal.

Thinking about celebrating my seventeenth with my girlfriend last year, my heart sped up and I walked faster.

I had more fun than I thought I would. I don’t know how they managed to get me served, but they did, and I’m drunk.

Which is probably why I’m writing this: I promise, to myself, that when I turn 21, I will ask my mystery ass grabber on a date.

July 24th, 2004

I got on the 500 around four. My friends harassed me about wanting to spend my birthday crammed on a bus in Pittsburgh. I would get off in Shadyside, take a bus back, get off in Oakland, get on the next 500.

They didn’t know I’d been riding the bus all week, looking for her. I’d spent a lot of money traveling between Oakland and Shadyside. Waiting for the bus in Oakland, I stalked the stops, searching for the face seared in my mind.

Finally I saw her waiting outside as I sped past. The bus was crowded, and she couldn’t get on, but I knew her stop, in front of the bank on Fifth Avenue. It was the perfect birthday present, knowing tomorrow I’d get my chance.

July 25th, 2004

I put on my grungiest clothes, the ones with holes in obscene places. I wanted to get her horny, I wanted her to go home and touch herself, thinking about me. I got to the stop at five, bought an Italian ice, and sweated.

Other gutter punks waved at me. My friend Vic wanted to sit with me, but I shooed her away.

My heart soared when my elusive molester arrived. I jammed myself onto the same bus with her, and stood in the crowded front, my back to her.

Sure enough, a surreptitious hand touched my ass, this time lingering. When the bus slowed, I let the motion push me into her. It felt like her heart beat was in her palm, pulsing against my skin. My dick throbbed, and I wanted to turn to her, to touch her.

Everyone shuffled to let a bunch of grad students off, and she slipped away into the bowels of the bus. Her hand left a residue of heat on my ass. Sometimes I thought I was crazy, trying to get to Pittsburgh for my birthday. Now I knew it was worth it.

This time I remembered the stop she got off at, Howe and Highland.

I went to the house we were squatting in, and got drunk and stoned with everyone. After that Vic cornered me and we made out. That made me get all emotional, and she was really cool about it.

July 24th, 2005

Next year, I’ll ask her on a date. This year, I have to wait for her, trying to keep my fingers from getting all sticky while I eat my gelato and sketch.

She showed up, and I got to stare at her ass for a good half hour. A curvy meaty woman, I wanted to hold that softness against me. Maybe today I’d turn the tables and grab her ass. I tried to think about how her round ass would feel in my hand, a little wiggle with muscle underneath.

Pacing, she gave me a view of the rest of her, her pretty blue eyes and big bouncy tits. I had to look away, these pants showed off my boner too much.

The first bus that came by was too crowded and she just stood there. I almost missed my chance when she threw me off by getting on the 71C.

The bus was practically empty. Standing over her would be a little obvious, so I positioned myself close, but not on top of her.

Today she was very interested in the advertisements around me. I wondered if she recognized me? Whenever I was on the bus with her, she seemed aware of me. It could be something as simple as the unconscious awareness of a predator for its prey.

Either way, we both stood there, licking our lips in anticipation.

When she got off the bus, she stumbled into me and enjoyed a long grope that started mid-thigh and worked up to my ass. She mumbled sorry and kept going.

I found an empty room and jerked off when I got back to the house.

Vic found me afterwards, as if drawn by my spunk, and tackled me. We played tonsil hockey until our lips were red and swollen.

I redesigned my cover for the blog hop.

The story continues in Love on the 500. This is the first book in the Ass Grabber series. Sorry, you have to wait for the second story to find out why Tod ran away from home.

Love on the 500 is a quirky tale of when Miss Havisham met Holden Caulfield.

Carla should be arrested, she keeps molesting men on the bus. She knows it’s wrong, but she can’t help herself, all those asses crying out for a fondle, a caress. Every time she got off at her stop, she’d grab a piece of cheek.

One day, a man follows her off the bus, and her life changes forever.

Join Carla as she dusts off her kitten and takes her out for a beer and a little slap and tickle with a younger man. Set in Pittsburgh’s affluent neighborhood of Shadyside, this story captures of the fun of two twenty-somethings falling in love in the Steel City.

Don’t forget to leave a comment with your email to enter to win a $10 Amazon gift card. Please note: I suck at counting, so I won’t be thanking commenters until after the blog hop, and I determine who wins (makes using a random number generator more easy). Don’t forget to check out the other awesome blogs.

Also, I’ll be on vacation next week. It’s within the realm of possibility that the internet will go on the fritz, in which case I will be awarding my prize when I get back.

The vampire rubbed my cock. It pushed painfully against the zipper of my jeans as she cupped my erection. My tongue was in her mouth, and when I nicked it on her fang, she moaned, sucking on my blood.

“Can I bite you?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I said, grinding my dick into her hand.

“I suppose you want a favor?” Her hand was at my button.

“I might.”

She pulled away from me scowling. “If you’re going to be cute, the deal’s off.”

“What is the deal? I know I’m going to need to take it easy tomorrow, eat some steak, but what do I get for it?”

While she stood there thinking I took her free hand, the one that wasn’t halfway stuffed into my jeans, and put it in my mouth. I pretended it was her pussy, tonguing her fingertip like a clit, licking her fingers like labia.

“I like eating pussy,” I helpfully told her.

“That’s it, you eat my pussy, then I get a snack.”

“No, that’s just something I’m offering. Either a blowjob or some sex would repay me amply.”

“How about I just overpower you and take your blood?”

I laughed. “Because it tastes better if I’m horny. I’ve played this game before, you take me home, we fuck, you drink, I fall asleep, I wake up sometime next afternoon and leave. Sometimes you make me a big juicy steak if you’re up.”

“Vampires sleep during the day,” she said.

“Not all of you. Most of you do.”

“How often do you do this?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Enough to take a few years off my life.”

“And no one wanted to keep you?”

My dick had been steadily going limp during our conversation, and at this point it had completely flatlined in her hand. “I’ve had a few girlfriends, but nothing long term. C’mon, let’s go, it’ll be fun. I like eating pussy, I’m good at it.”
She shook her head. I just grinned at her, waiting for her to give into her growling stomach.

“Okay, we’ll take my car.”

It was black (of course). She lived in a little Victorian house with deep shutters (of course) with an oddly artful lawn of weeds.

“Your garden is lovely,” I said.

“Thank you. I’ve got a little swamp in the back full of sundews and pitcher plants.” She opened the door and held it for me. “You know a lot about vampires.”

“Yes, well…I have my tastes,” I said by way of defense.

Taking my hand, she ran up the stairs with me in tow. She threw open her door and pushed me onto her bed. Her panties were off in a flash and my dick was cheering. She leapt upon the bed. Stretching out my arms, I greeted her crouching thighs.

“Beautiful,” I whispered before burying my mouth in her cunt. I knew it was the flattery that got vampires off.

She had a sweetish coppery taste behind the salt that I lapped from her lips. I ran my tongue over her folds until she squirmed. I pressed my mouth over her clit letting it slip past my teeth. Her legs twitched.

I rocked her hips back and forth over my mouth. Thrusting my tongue inside her, she hissed. She moved faster, rubbing her clit on my front teeth. With the pad of my finger I rubbed her wrinkled asshole.

A long quaver escaped her throat before her pussy clenched and she came in my mouth. I moaned into her quivering cunt. I moved my lips like I was saying, “Your cum tastes so good,” and she was at it again, fucking my face, wanting to feel that again.

With my fingertip pulsing on her ass and my teeth working her clit I made her orgasm twice more, until she fell over panting.

I sat up and smiled at her. “You can just lay there. I’ll give you my neck after I come.”

“Okay.”

We wiggled out of our clothes. I bent my lips to her pale heavy breasts and bit her nipples. I loved the feel of her cool flesh hardening in my mouth.

I shed my pants and she gawked at my hairy leg.

“You are the furriest man I’ve ever seen,” she said.

I kissed her, rubbing my hard dick on her wet slit. She canted her hips so instead of teasing her, I slipped into her entrance. Her pussy was tight. Sometimes vampires forgot they liked fucking, and they were practically virgins by the time I wheedled my way into their beds.

The look on her face, delight and surprise, it had to be a century or longer since she’d been touched like this. I kissed her, easing my tongue into her mouth at the same pace as I slid into her tight hole. When her lips opened, when she sucked my tongue and moaned into my mouth, I slammed my length home.

“Oh god, I don’t even know you name,” she murmured, gripping me close as I settled into my rhythm.

“Giles,” I whispered into her hair. I held myself over her, my head pulsing at her entrance. “Say, ‘Fuck me Giles.’”

She wrapped her legs around my waist, hooking her feet around my back. Her eyes were dark as she stared straight into me. “Fuck me Giles.”

Bracing myself on my knees and elbows, I drove into her. Her hands twisted in my hair as she panted on my throat. I snaked a hand between us to caress her mound and tease her clit.

Her muscles tensed as another orgasm built in her body. She came, and her pussy milked my cock. Her legs flailed, and I pushed them up over her head, curling her body up to penetrate her deeply.

My balls slapped against her cunt. Guttural moans came from her throat. I found with a light touch, I could make her come and come again, until my dick hurt and her pussy twitched.

“Giles,” she said, stopping my hips. “I’m hungry.”

I rolled her to her side, pushing one leg up high, pressing her belly to the bed. As I pounded into her, I let myself feel her hot pulsing cunt. I saw her face wrinkled with passion, her tits bouncing as I slammed into her. I grunted, dumping a gallon of seed inside her.

She sighed, stretching out beneath me. “Well Giles, I must say I’m happy to have taken you home.”

I leaned against the headboard, pulling my long hair out her way.

“I wouldn’t be sad if you were here tomorrow,” she said, touching my cheek.

“Leave me your keys so I can get some food.”

“Okay,” she said. She took me in her arms and kissed my throat, sucking and licking at the vien. I caressed her back and played with her hair. When she bit my throat, the sharp pain was soon dulled with a slow surging pleasure.

I told her how beautiful she was, how strong her grip and how sharp her teeth as she drank. When I passed out, she was purring against my throat.

The next morning I woke with a headache. I ran the tap and drank. It must have just before dawn because my lover stirred.

“There are glasses in the kitchen, you don’t have to drink like an animal,” she said.

“But I am an animal.” With a growl, I pounced on the bed and she let out a stage shriek. I chewed on her neck. Her legs opened beneath me and in a moment I was sheathed inside her.

“Maybe you are,” she murmured, her arms snaking around my neck.
It never took long to rid myself of my morning wood, and my vampire despaired.
“Don’t pout, I won’t leave you wanting.”

I wiggled down her body, biting her milk white flesh, licking her pink bud nipples, trailing my tongue up and down her ribs.

“I did well to choose you,” she said.

“Mm hm…” I said, my thumb on her pubic mound, my lips on her belly.

“What do you mean ‘mm hm’?” She pulled my head away to gaze at me. Her icy eyes widened. “You knew I was hungry, so you acted like easy prey to tempt me.”

I smiled. “I had the best intentions.”

“How do you know so much about vampires?”

“I’m busy now, I’ll tell you later.”

She frowned, but flopped back on the bed.

I licked my seed from her lips, flushed pink with my blood. I dipped my tongue inside her and she arched into my mouth. She grabbed my hair, to pull me up to her clit, and I pushed back against her. “I know how to eat pussy, don’t be so impatient.”

With my own cum as lube, I rubbed her asshole, working just the tip of my finger into her. Her hand fell limp, her fingers tangled in my hair. Her body rocked beneath me. When she writhed, I took her clit in my mouth. I held her as she bucked beneath me, flicking her bud with my tongue.

“I’m going to have good dreams tonight,” she said.

I fell back asleep with my sticky face against her belly, her hands stroking my hair.

About this story:

Some of the built in statistics for my site tell me what keywords I’ve been found with. Among them is the phrase “the vampire rubbed my cock”. So here’s a story, about a lady vampire rubbing a dude’s cock. The next story will be about a dude vampire rubbing another dude’s cock. My inspiration may have been batting for the other team, so I want to cover my bases.

This story was also inspired by The Ride by Selena Kitt. I read it as part of the Paranormal Sex Bundle (well worth the $5).

What you are about to see are four very different covers. It’s going to take a minute, so let’s get started!

Here’s my first cover for Ass Grabber, thrown together with Aubrey Watts tutorial close by. I got the image from Romance Novel Covers for $15. It’s okay. It does have ass grabbing.

And we have female hands on a male ass!

This next one is a little more ambitious, and occurred after a rebranding. I wanted to play up the romantic side of the book. I scoured the web for public domain images of buses, and I finally stumbled upon this lovely image of the interior of a hydrogen powered bus in London (thanks Spsmiler). I got the image for $12.50 at colourbox. It’s more ambitious and works well with the title shift (Love on the 500) but it’s not amazing.

As you can see, my GIMP skills are still developing.

So, one more before I get to to the good one. Using the same image from colourbox, and a couple of brushes from Obsidian Dawn (okay, all 3 of the glitter brushes), and the same colors from the bus, I put this together. It’s less tacked together. I started with a transparency in a darker blue, covered it in glitter smoke, worked up another 2 lighter shades, then layered light red glitter II over that. I added the title and author name, and finished off with some dark red glitter swirls. While I’m not in love with this here, it’s definitely something I’ll try again. I’d like to note, I love that I can download all these brushes, and pay as needed, although at $3 each, I might as well buy them.

I’m not in love with it.

So, Obsidian Dawn’s brushes met those lovely bus colors, and gave birth to the image I’ll end up using. I needs works, I won’t argue that, but here I feel like I’m “onto something”. Also, it’s only $3 (foliage swirls brushes). Although, should probably look at the rest, for research, ya know (did research, see post from 2 AM last night).

The background needs work, among other things, but this is the basic idea.

Whatever they were here to do, it was illegal. It was the only explanation for why they would stay here. Not that I cared. They pumped me for information and greased my palm. I personally cleaned their rooms at night, when they were gone. Anymore, I didn’t even bother to knock.

This is an original story, chronicling how three of the characters of my upcoming novelette, The Vampire’s Gallery, met. What you missed can be found here. It’s part of Six Sentence Sunday. Click the link for more awesome stories!
Please note: This is set around 1 BC, and is light when it comes to historical accuracy. I mean, no one’s going to whip out some matches or a PSP, but there are probably details I’ll get wrong.

So, I think during the duration of The Hero’s Blog Hop, I sold -1 copy of The Altar of Deimos. What could have happened?

1) Not leading with my best foot (The Altar of Deimos, while not a bad story, is short, and my ultimate intention is for it to be free).
2) Not participating (I was getting married, so I had a good excuse).
3) Description needs sprucing up.
4) Cover art needs tweaking.

Well, we’re going to fix all of these forLove on the 500’s spin with Romancing the Hop. I’m working on the description/cover, I think it’s a great story and people seem to like it, and I’m going to try and hit up 5 sites a day.

Not that results were all bad. While the hop may have been a commercial flop, it definitely drew people to my blog, lots of people commented, and I ended up with a few new followers. The woman who runs these blog hops is just lovely, great about communication (like she will email you back within 24 hours if not seconds, normally seconds), it’s all easy peasy.

I’ve also discovered that people who include everyone’s links right in their blog are a blessing, but my current post is really long, and if I add a list of 200 names, I’m going to feel like I owe people another $5 for scrolling through everything (offering a $10 Amazon gift card again). At the very least I’ll give it a shot, but at this point I’m on the fence, again, due to the sheer volume of names.

Also, I’m not commenting this time. I can’t flipping count, and if I comment I have to count how many people commented before I determine my random number. I will thank people after (if WordPress doesn’t yell at me for typing “thank you” too many times).

Last time I wrote a bit of orignal backstory to go with the book, and I think I’ll try that again, unless it ends up being dreadful in which case nertz.

This is the basic idea. I’ll probably fool around with the text art some more.

1977 was the last year a criminal was executed by guillotine in France. Until 1939, executions were public.

There are some topics I simply love reading about. Politics, fashion, and capital punishment are among them. I know, why capital punishment? Pick up The Executioner’s Song, and you’ll know why. Norman Mailer’s book about the first man executed since the reinstatement of the death penalty in the US won him a Pulitzer. As harrowing as Gary Gilmore’s fight for death is (no, that’s not a typo, he fought to shed his blood upon the ground), even more fascinating is the media circus around it. Two things have completely changed my view on modern media: the second part of The Executioner’s Song and the movie Network.

Now, I’m looking forward to diving into Jeremy Mercer’s When the Guillotine Fell. It’s a tale of the last execution in France, the guillotine, and capital punishment. He pretty much had me after his description of a cave painting of an execution. I’m reading it, wondering why the hell we’re suddenly talking about anthropology, when he wraps up the chapter with the description of a bound man pierced with arrows. I said, “Oh, you’re good, I’m buying this. This is the type of non-fiction I like.” I’ve found, oftentimes the history of an object to as gripping as any love story or mystery.

I was going to have some search engine based smut for you (someone found my website with the phrase “the vampire rubbed my cock”), but I’m still working on that.

Don’t despair. See that lovely little badge on the side, the one labeled “Naughty Saucy Cheap”. Click on it baby. Oh yeah. That links you to Skye Warren’s beautifully designed website of free erotica promotions. So, download a book, and if you liked it, for the love of god, leave a review (hundreds of free copies downloaded, not a single review ):

Most websites that list free ebooks explicitly exclude smut, so this was certainly something the community needed.

Nothing quite reminds you of the peculiarities of US culture like an episode of Superjail! Adult Swim is gearing up for the new season (9/30, I can’t wait) and in the meantime they’re running the old episodes. People getting torn apart, eviscerated, decapitated, sliced and diced, etc., is all part of the fun in this bloody psychedelic Wonderland.

A nipple, though, heaven forbid we catch sight of a nipple! The clip here has a lot of characteristic violence (uncensored) and the Warden’s wang and Hunter’s nipples (censored). You really have to wonder about what kind of society we live in where a woman’s naked body is less acceptable than that same woman ripping a man in half.

No wonder smut authors are subject to all manner of censorship, subtle and overt. See Selena Kitt for an expanded discussion. Please note: she has other posts on the subject as well, which are all worth reading, or at least skimming.

It’s also deeply disturbing when you think about it. Sexuality is considered crossing some line, but violence is not. We can have shows that plumb the depths of human darkness (Criminal Minds), with all the blood and gore and perversion to sate any modern Jack the Ripper. Graphic portrayals of consensual sex? Are you crazy? Think of the children.

I know this topic seems like it’s been beaten to death, but given that it’s still a problem, there must be some life still twitching in those limbs.

This isn’t a criticism of Adult Swim either. I’m the type of spaz that likes their content. I’ve spent many bleary eyed nights, writing with Squidbillies or Robot Chicken in the background. I’d rather have the dick episode of Aqua Teen censored than not have it all—wait, scratch that. That’s a terrible example. That may be the one case where censorship does ruin it. With the exception of that episode, I’m okay with it.

I did wish they sold Superjail! uncensored because the black bars ruin the aesthetics, not because I want to seen an alien vagina.